в начале с вами
by IvoryMoonlight
Summary: Anya and Dimitri's ways part before the ball in Paris.Rasputin never finds her that night.2 months later Dimitri gets an invitation in St. Petersburg that will change his life dramatically.But there's no evil sorcerer to get in his way to happiness,right?
1. Chapter 1

**So here's a little story of mine that is an alternate ending to _Anastasia_, if you may call it that! The chapters won't be long and not many. But that does not mean you should not review! By all means, DO! Not listening to your thoughts makes writing pointless!**

**Summary: While Dimitri is still in Paris packing his belongings, the Empress tells Anya that he did not take the reward. So she decides to face him and learn the truth. He, however, chooses to not admit it and make her angry at him. He wanted her to move on because he thought she was too good for him to have her and that she did not deserve him. He returns in St. Petersburg and lives there while she stays in Paris with her grandmother.**

**The story starts two months later when Dimitri receives an invitation from the Royal family to attend a ball held in the Catherine Palace in honour of their return in Russia. Thinking that Anya won't be there, he is persuaded to go. However, things turn out a little differently than he had expected them to. A certain Princess is attending the ball too, unaware of his presence as well but what could possibly go wrong? Surely there is no evil sorcerer after her seeking his revenge! Is he?...**

**I hope the story is appealing to you! I will upload chapter 2 soon like...today! I have written most of the story so the updates won't be delayed. But please review! I want to have received at most 4 or 5 reviews by the time chappie 2 is up! Unless you don't like the story...**

**P.S. According to Google Translation, title means 'At the beginning with you' in Russian. Don't blame me if it actually doesn't! I do not speak Russian XD oh! And I also had to come up with a surname for Dimitri, ok? **

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p><em>December, 1st 1926<em>

_Dear Mr. Aleksandrov,_

_It would be an honour to Her Imperial Majesty, the Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna_  
><em>if you attended the ball hosted at the renovated Catherine Palace<em>  
><em>held in Her Majesty's honorable return in St. Petersburg at December 10th.<em>

_Signed,_

__The Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna _ _

Dimitri crumpled the piece of paper in his fist in nuisance and brought the fist on his forehead. He was absolutely out of his mind, there is no doubting that. How could he have let himself be so easily convinced? He shouldn't have. He had agreed into doing the stupidest thing he had ever done. Well, nothing could overcome his stupid con to get money from the Empress by training a girl to be Anastasia so that was the second most stupid thing he had ever done. All hopes he had of beginning anew and forgetting the past would shatter the moment he stepped in the royal territory of the Palace. They had already started cracking the moment he read the invitation, anyway. And yet he was still going. How moronic can a man get, really?

_"Don't you worry, boy!"_ Vlad had said. _"She won't be there and, besides, it is a ball maske! No one will recognize you but me!"_the kind man had offered him a wide, toothy smile and Pooka had swung mercilessly his tail and licked his hands. He still couldn't quite get how Anya had parted with her beloved dog but he didn't want to think of it. He didn't want to think of _her_ in no way. So he had just rolled his eyes at his old friend's persistence and denied once more. And he just _had_ to ask it as a favour for the sake of their reunion as Vlad would soon leave. Usually that would have been called blackmailing had he not wanted to spoil his little time with his old, truest friend. So he had just accepted.

The young man huffed annoyed with himself as he stared in his small apartment's only mirror. He lived in a small place, it's true, but it was all he could afford. His job in the fishfactory was not profitable but he had sworn to never steal or try to earn money in some unholy way. For the sake of Anya and the pain he had caused her.

And here he was, thinking of her again. That blasted woman would just pop in his head out of nowhere and torture his mind and heart cruelly. It was his fault, really. It was his fault he had spent two bloody months in St. Petersburg, away from her, trying so hard to forget her and the incredible adventure they had found themselves involved in. But it was just so hard. Every little thing, usually the simplest of things, would remind him of her and that's because she was a simple girl, a _simply_ _beautiful_ girl. Maybe if he had told her the truth, if he had not left, things might have been different. But they weren't and he couldn't turn back time.

_"My business here is done, and there is nothing more to say on the matter."_He had firmly said getting lost in those pools of mirth and ocean blue of hers. He was not lying, and if she had thought he was, then he had been doing it for her own good.

_"But Grandmamma said that you didn-" she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in exhaustion. He couldn't blame her. She had to put up with him and his stubbornness. A real wonder and achievement she had not slapped him again."Why are you doing this? Why are you lying? I think that I deserve the truth after everything we've been through."_

_Her voice was low and calm but he could already hear the bitter fury raising in her, claiming every bit of her. "I'm not lying. My business here is done. I brought you to your home and I have made sure of your safety. Now I must go back to Russia and move on with my life as you shall with yours. Besides, you're a Princess. I'm a kitchen boy. I don't belong here."_

_With a frown darkening her beautiful features she grunted and stood up, walking aimlessly towards the edge of the red carpeted stairwell. "I hate how you cannot be a grown man for just a moment and not a baby! If you don't belong here then why didn't you take the money? I know you didn't! Why?"_

_Dimitri looked at the fancy, marbled floor beneath his feet, pursing his lips as he scanned his brain for an answer that would not give him away. He strongly believed what he had just told her and she would not change his mind. "I forgot to say my goodbyes." He mastered after a moment, changing the subject completely and ignoring her question, and looked up at her, trying his hardest to seem sincere and convincing. But obviously he failed for she walked before him, her delicate stature more noble and imposing than ever before and looked upon him disappointedly._

_"For a man who claims he has changed a lot, you are the exact same conman I met in the Catherine Palace. Full of lies and hot air." She said looking absolutely menacing, like the Anya he met before she became the Grand Duchess. And how he loved that Anya. He loved each side of hers, actually. But behind the menace in her voice and eyes, the hurt and pain she felt had not escaped his notice. He knew her too well now, she could not hide from him, not anymore. "I can't believe that I actually considered of goin- no, forget it! I have my family now, my past and you are obviously not willing of having me come with you."_

He still remembered how hard those words had hit him before she collected her shining tiara from the small coffee table and extended a formal hand to him. They said a cold goodbye before she turned her back on him and walked proudly away, like the Princess she was. But she did not put the tiara back on. Instead he saw her lowering her head a little and bringing a hand to her face when she thought he couldn't see her anymore. He had made the Grand Duchess Anastasia cry. He had made the woman he loved cry. That's why he chose not to run after her and pull her in his arms like he had wanted to do for quite some time. Instead he collected his belongings and headed back to the train station. At 8 o'clock in the morning he was crossing Russia's borders with Poland.

"Unbelievable!" Vladimir's cheerful voice filled the room with bright joy and also shook Dimitri off his ponderings. He had allowed him to have a key of his own of his apartment so he wasn't really surprised to see him. "You have almost turned into a decent looking man! However did you achieve that?"

The young man chuckled with a roll of his eyes and threw his black mask on his friend who was laughing wholeheartedly. He heard Vlad scolding him for not having it on yet but he only dismissed him with a wave of his hand and walked to his extremely narrow balcony, watching the people rushing to the Palace to have a sneak upon the noblemen and royals who would fill the great city that very night. "I'm not sure if I-"

"Not another word from you! A promise is a promise. You are coming even if I have to drag you all the way to the Palace myself!" the man husked and dragged him back in by the elbow. Dimitri rolled his eyes in defeat and chuckled. He had missed such moments of relaxation and familiarity with his friend. They had become an every-day routine for him and it was still hard for him to adjust in the new life's routine.

He was taken by surprise as Vladimir covered abruptly his eyes with his black mask, putting on him quite awkwardly and slantwise so that it was actually getting in his left eye.

"Do you want me to be a blind man by the time we get there?" he complained as he hissed under his breath by the tingling feeling in his eye that made a few salty drops escape. "Let me do or you'll take my eye off!"

"Sorry, boy, I'm just excited we'll go together, like the old times!" he apologized and Dimitri couldn't not purse his lips in agreement and even nostalgia. "Sophie and the Empress have even missed you too! They would have been really disappointed not to see you."

"Uh… 13!" Dimitri exclaimed in genuine happiness after a moment of pensiveness. "Oh, and in case you're wondering, that's the exact number of the times you have said that to me!"

Vladimir roared in laughter and patted him on the back with his wide palm, making him actually stumble a little. "Same, old Dimitri! Well, a bit changed but in a good way." The man swallowed back the rest of his sentence so not to cause Dimitri's alarm and vexation. But Anastasia would have certainly been proud of him if she had met him.

"Yeah, yeah… shouldn't we be off by now?" the man dismissed again by changing the subject, as he finally fixed the mask on his face. Vlad nodded violently with a bright smile before exiting the flat with Dimitri's elbow in his huge palm. Dimitri raised a questioning brow to his direction. Something was putting him in such a fine mood, something he wouldn't tell him. But Dimitri was a bright man, he would instantly know what that was when the time came. For the time all he did was have some patience.

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><p><strong>Was it good? Uninteresting? Boring? Oh, come on! I know you are smart enough to take the hint I'm throwing right in your face! :P If you do review, tell me if Dimitri seemed OOC or not because I have an uncertainty complex...!<br>**


	2. Chapter 2

**I forgot to mention that I do not own Anastasia or the characters. Just the plot of this story :D  
><strong>

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><p>"I still find this a stupid idea. I am in no good mood <em>whatsoever<em>, I'm only going to spoil the party for you and I'd really hate that! Please, Sophie!"

The plethoric woman shook negatively her head again so violently that Anastasia thought she would actually mess with her own hairdo and for once, Sophie had chosen to wear her hair in a simple style of curls with a blood-red ribbon that would match her puffy, red gown with embroidered golden pearls and golden laces. "Absolutely not, Princess! People won't know who you are, after all, you'll be perfectly invisible from the indiscreet eyes. Besides, it might cheer you up!"

Her grandmother's cousin had a point. Her mask had a little too much decorative stuff on it and behind it, people would not recognize her. It was made of fine silken golden fabric and two dark feathers with a glued golden pearl on their ends were decorating it. Not to mention a black, transparent veil was falling loosely before her face annoyingly but she'd rather have her vision slightly limited than people recognizing her.

Sophie was lacing her final straps up. "Am I supposed to breath in this? Because if yes then it's perfect!" she complained sarcastically as the woman pulled a little too tightly the laces of her corset. Sophie rolled her eyes and mumbled words in her usual merry manner before making sure the Princess felt comfortable in her new gown. In time, Anya had gotten used to the fanciful dressing and tight clothing and she actually liked it. Her new clothes were made of the finest fabrics existing and the best of tailors made her ball gowns. She was getting more than any orphan girl could ever ask for. And she _was grateful_, she thought with a snicker, her thoughts rushing back to that intimidatingly annoying Comrade Phlegmenkoff .

Looking in her mirror which was at the other side of her room, she had to admit that dress was beautiful. It was also golden –it was her favourite colour after all- hugging soothingly her body, complimenting her delicate silhouette with no embroidered jewels or ribbons. Just a golden veil embracing her skirt loosely, matching the veiled, long sleeves. Just a turquoise ribbon was wrapped around her waist to break the golden tone and accentuate her slender waist.

She had pulled her reddish, brown curls in a loose ponytail with a matching turquoise ribbon and a little tiara was resting comfortably on top of her head. Once Sophie was done, she looked at the full-lengthed mirror and twirled around herself, feeling the lightness of her skirts waving joyfully around her and being wrapped around her feet. Sophie had done a marvelous job with her dress and makeup and hairstyle. On her own she would have made herself look a total mess. She was still being trained how to put on makeup but for a girl who had spent ten years in an orphanage, it was not an easy task. "Thank you, Sophie! I do not know what I'd do without you."

"Stay in your room, I guess?" she teased making her place scoldingly but playfully her hands on her hips. The woman chuckled kindly and took the girl in her arms. She had come to adore that young woman the past two months, she was exactly the Grand Duchess she had pictured and wanted her to be. "You are going to be the most beautiful young lady even behind this mask! Your grandma is so proud of you and so am I. All of Russia actually is!"

"I think you're exaggerating a bit?" the two women laughed a little before embracing each other again and putting on their masks for good. "It's show time!" Anya exclaimed jokingly.

"Come on, Your Highness, we have left the Empress waiting long enough!"

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><p>"No! Absolutely <em>not<em>!"

"Stop being so stubborn! It's not going to hurt, you know!"

"Show up? Yes. Look nice? Fine. But _dance_ with one of those..._vultures_? No."

And there she was again popping out of nowhere. He even sounded like her now. How pathetic could he be? But he again shook her out of his mind and wagged a negative finger before Vlad's chubby nose.

"It will do you good, boy! They're not going to eat you!" the man insisted, trying to get him out of his chair and on the dancefloor by pulling him by the elbow. Both had noticed several girls stealing glances to his direction with a more than inviting look, which was the very reason he pictured them as vultures, and some even waved at him in what they thought gracefully challenging but innocent manner. Those girls were way overestimating their flirting skills. And anyway, he was wearing a bloody mask, how could they possibly be sure they would like what they'd see later on?

"Why do you think I just called them vultures?" Dimitri suggested taking sip of his red wine and looking away.

"Come on, Dimitri. You are being as obstinate as a mule, which is a very annoying manner for a young nobleman!"

"In case it has escaped your notice, I am _no _nobleman!" he hissed in a whisper before chuckling nervously to a girl younger than him who had giggled on purpose as she walked by his table, looking meaningfully at him. Can a girl get any more desperate?

"Well, then, tonight try to act like one!" Vladimir egged him on and as he was standing by his side, he pushed him motivatingly, which only annoyed Dimitri even more. "Change is good for you, after all, is it not?"

"As opposed to you!" he snapped at him but not in an irritated manner. "Spending too much time in that... _palace _in Paris has made you quite unbearable! Oh, wait, hold on a minute. You always have been!"

"I know you don't mean that. You only say it because you want me to forget that dancing!" the spout man observed in victorious, genuine happiness. His chubby nose and cheeks had turned into a bright shade of red and his brown eyes were glittering drunkenly now. Gazing at the golden goblet in his friend's hand, Dimitri realized he had had too much for that night. But he knew it would also be pointless to remove the goblet from him since he was not as strong as Vlad.

"Oh my God, I think you are reading my mind!" He faked to be surprised and pleased and at his friend's face of belief, he sighed aggravated and placed heavily his own goblet back on the table. "No, you don't! Because if you did, then you'd know how much I do _not_ want to dance!"

"How about a deal?" Vladimir challenged in his thick Russian accent.

"I know I won't like this, and yet I am acquiescing to it? I _am_ stupid!" he muttered to himself but obviously he was heard from his friend. His suspicions of Vlad being onto something had grown stronger with all that dancing and drinking and partying so he was willing to accept whatever deal he offered him just to see where he'd take this. "Fine, let's have it!"

"You dance with _one_ girl _I _choose for you and I will leave you in peace for the rest of the night!" he suggested waving a firm pointer finger before his face so to emphasise his words.

Dimitri pursed his lips thinking his proposal through. Being left in peace for the rest of the evening was too sweet and inviting of a proposal to deny, but what if the girl Vlad chose for him was just… not right for him? After all, he was never really good at dancing and it was a miracle Anya still had her toes intact after their little spinning and twirling onboard the Tasha. Well, he had nothing to lose. It would be just one girl and just for one song –he'd make sure for that-, what hurt would possibly come from that? And if it would rid him of Vlad's persistency then he was more than fine with that. "Just one girl?"

"You have my word! Just one!" his companion hurried to reassure him in victorious satisfaction and excitement. And with no other word, he was on his way in quest of the girl Dimitri would be forced to dance with. This night just couldn't get any better…

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><p><strong>So here was chapter 2, just as promised! A little too short but what can ya do..! I suppose you've already guessed what's going to happen next? Well, you're PARTIALLY guessing wrong! I've got a little surprise for you! But you've got to wait chapter 4 or 5 to know exactly what that is! :D So please stay tuned and leave a comment! <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Anastasia or the characters. Just the plot of this story :D  
><strong>

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><p>"I really don't think it's a good idea."<p>

"Sweetheart, it'll do you good." Empress Marie placed a caressing hand on her granddaughter's blushing cheek. Anastasia smiled softly at the loving gesture, still adoring and cherishing each and every little gesture of love and kindness she received from her friends and family. For that only, she could do her grandmother whatever she asked her to. "Besides, how long has it been since you impressed the crowd with your skills on the dancefloor?"

Anya chuckled timidly at her words. It was true, she had grown to be a real artist when it came to dancing, she loved it so much when she was twirling and spinning and the world around her would fade away and would look like a weird, surreal painting with each kind of colour she could imagine. She had to thank Dimitri for that, but she didn't want to be grateful to him for anything. _He_ didn't want her to, anyway. So she wouldn't be. After all, she was over him, as if she had never felt something for him. Therefore, she had no reason not to dance with some young man. Perhaps he would turn out to be a nice, handsome gentleman who would sweep her off her feet like Dimitri had.

At that thought, she frowned and shook her head. Why couldn't she get through a phrase in her mind without him suddenly making his appearance?

"All right, grandmamma. But I'm only doing this for you!" she said in order to distract herself from her thoughts and make the image of a certain man dissolve.

The Empress chuckled kindly and took her hand in hers. "My dear child, I want you to do it for you, not for me. I want to see you happy and smiling again."

"But I am happy, grandmamma. What makes you think-?"

"Not as happy as you were the first time you came to find me in Paris." The sweet old woman cut her off softly and Anya could hear the words she would not speak. Her first time in Paris was with Dimitri. That's what the Dowager Empress really meant to say, she knew. But she chose to ignore it, pretend she didn't understand even though she knew she couldn't fool her grandmother.

With no other word but just with a smile, she placed her palm in Vlad's wide open one, who had been left waiting for some time,and she let him lead her through the cheerful crowd. It was weird not having people acknowledge her presence and greet and bow to her but it felt relieving. She liked it better this way. The only attention she enjoyed getting was from the people close to her, the people who loved her and whom she loved.

"He is a remarkable young man!" Vladimir exclaimed enthusiastically after a moment, abruptly shaking her off her thoughts. She rolled her eyes playfully and smirked, not sure who was more excited about her dancing with some stranger; her or Vladimir? Well, he was awfully thrilled and content, as if he had achieved a goal or something. She wasn't sure why he was this merry. He had been ever since they decided to visit Russia, a month ago. He even thought of hosting a ball the second night after their arrival. Strange.

"Here we are!" he announced almost immediately and brought her before a table at the other side of the immense ball room which hid so many lost dreams and hopeless memories. Instantly, a young man stood off his chair and bowed almost awkwardly. He didn't seem really excited about dancing as well, he seemed more bored than cheerful. Weird, at least their moods matched at that moment.

His black mask hid most part of his face and was accentuating his dark, mysterious eyes. He had matching chestnut hair and she had the impression that in his everyday life those locks would be actually unruly. She curtsied in the way Sophie had showed her to and felt stupid. Curtsy like the Princess she was could give away her royal state. And she didn't really want that. Thankfully, Vlad spoke again in his most excited manner possible. "I think I am not needed anymore!"

"Wait, Vlad, you forgot to…"she shouted to his direction but her exclaiming voice died down when she saw he had already gotten lost in the crowds. "…introduce us…" her whispering words had obviously not been unheard from the young man. Despite his masked face, he could see his knitted brows and distorted features in puzzlement. Not knowing what else to do, she smiled awkwardly, tangling her hands behind her back nervously as they stood staring at each other.

"He…he does that all the time, you know…" he spoke after a while, pointing to the path Vlad had ran off to. He seemed quite nervous himself which made her feel a bit more relieved. She slightly tilted her head to the side when he spoke, his heavy voice hiding a familiar yet mysteriously dark memory.

"Yeah, I know- I know him!" she said stupidly and bit her lower lip, looking away."He's a... friend."

"Oh, nice. He's a friend of mine too." he replied nervously waving some gloves he had in one hand to Vlad's supposable direction. They were probably his, she assumed. Sensing her discomfort, the young man shook his head and approached her with an inviting open palm. "Would you…do me the honour? Even though I'm not…really good at it!"

"Not to worry, I've had my share with bad dancers. One, in particular." She said so to find them some topic to discuss and as they seemed to lack of ideas, anything was better than the awkward silence. With a sweet smile, she placed graciously her hand over his and the way he gently wrapped his fingers around her delicate wrist gave her a feeling of familiarity she couldn't exactly place. In fact, everything about him were somewhat familiar but perhaps it was just her tired mind with the mix of little alcohol she had had.

"Oh, really? Well, we'll see if I can outmatch him in the art of awful dancing!" he joked nervously as he led her to the dancefloor. They stood in the middle and both raised their hands. They chuckled in funny awkwardness as they finally found the right position for their hands and lifted their heads so to gaze in each other's eyes. Finding, however, that their proximity and awkwardness was too much to handle, they looked away and only stole glances to one another as they chatted. Anya's feeling of weird cosiness to him only increased at that little moment but she had chose to not let anything destroy her somewhat content mood."May I ask who he is? He's a guest too?"

"Uh.." the girl looked away. "He's…a friend. More like was. It's been two months since I last saw him."

"Ahh…" he only exclaimed as if enlightened and that was the moment they started dancing. It was a classical piece of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake, the kind of music that could sooth her and put a smile on her face. But his next words made her look at him in puzzlement and irritation. The fact is, she wasn't angry at him but at the actual truthfulness of his words. "You miss him."

"What? No! Whatever gave you that impression?" she objected raising a little her voice in a highpitched manner, making several dancing couples look to their way.

"The sorrowful tone in your voice did." He stated kindly and the way he spoke made it difficult for her to be annoyed by him. "Forgive me, if I've been too bold. I have learnt to speak straightforwardly. So if I may say, it's clear he was someone truly important to you, if not someone you actually loved."

"I… well… maybe, I don't know. Can we please find a new topic?" he had made her feel uncomfortable and she just wanted to escape the memory of her and Dimitri swirling in glee on the deck of a ship. As if reading her thoughts and feeling her unease, he decided to twirl her around herself. And when he did she felt as if she were in Dimitri's arms again. Actually, that was the feeling of familiarity she was getting from the moment she met him. How could have she not seen it before? But why? How?

"I'm sorry for upsetting you. I didn't mean to. Guess it's not just the section of dancing I'm awful at but the speech as well!" Well, she didn't know much about his speech but he surely was an awkward dancer. He had had his proper instruction of waltz, he knew the steps but he was late at executing them and he knew that. She could feel his tension and unease. He was trying hard not to step on her toes for he was stealing quick, almost invisible glances down at his feet. And yet again, only one man had danced with her like that and was at such nervous position.

"Excuse me but I don't think we've been introduced. My name is An…tonina!" she had been as focused on him that she had momentarily forgotten that she didn't wish to make her identity known to anyone especially a man whose every move and word –even his voice!- reminded her of Dimitri. "What's yours?"

"Well, you've got a beautiful name. Better than Dimitri anyway!" he chuckled awkwardly and twirled her one more time. Her eyes grew twice as big and a surprised gasp escaped involuntarily her rosy, full lips. He knitted his brows in confusion. "Something the matter, Antonina?"

She took the courage and made herself look deeply, truly in his eyes. They were chocolate, brown ones, the mysterious darkness so inviting and tempting she even forgot to actually breath. Only Dimitri's eyes had ever had the power to capture her, make her heart freeze and her breathing race. No, that couldn't be possible. "Wha- what's your-? Did you say 'Dimitri'?"

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><p><strong>Ohhh *_* cliffhanger! jejeje but I won't have you waiting for very long, promise :) I know it wasn't a surprise it was Anya Dimitri would dance with but was it any good the way I wrote it? Anyone gonna guess what's going to happen next? Actually, anyone gonna review? Pretty please? ^.^ Chocolate chip cookies sprinkled with love and smileys are waiting for those who will :) <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Anastasia or the characters. Just the plot of this story :D  
><strong>

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><p>The young man narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Yes, that's right. I did." He managed to say as she had closed the distance between their faces and was staring wide eyed in his eyes. It was almost intimidating him. But what was more weird was how awfully familiar her eyes were. He had never seen someone whose eyes could match Anya's pure, crystal ones, those cerulean orbs that made you think the sky had fallen into them and clung onto them for dear life. Those beautiful eyes that had him fall in love, him, Dimitri, the conman.<p>

At his reply, she backed away, unlocking their embrace, hand of confusion driven on her forehead as she stared down at their feet. Some couples crushed on her as they were standing in the middle of the floor so he gently grabbed her wrist and led her out of the crowd, where it was somewhat calm and solitarily. She stole bewildered glances at him now and then and that was only increasing his perplexion. "Antonina, are you all right? What has happened?"

"I'm-.. fi..- you are… oh, no!" she covered her lips with both her hands so to muffle up a sob. She was not looking at him anymore and when she finally did –he actually made her to by slipping a hand under her chin and lifting her head- she pushed him away gently and run away. He would have gone after her if it weren't for another girl grabbing his sleeve and pleading with her battering eyes for a dance. He refused as politely as he could and headed back to the table hoping to meet Vlad. But his gaze fell on the massive stairwell where his friend and the royal family were sitting on.

He climbed slowly the stairs and bowed before the Empress. The old woman smiled kindly and inclined her head. "Hello Dimitri."

"Good evening, Your Majesty." He greeted back and couldn't help feeling a wave of shame filling him as he gazed in her sea blue eyes –which were identical to her granddaughter's- of forgiveness and goodheart. He had meant to hurt her just to get her money and she did not deserve such painful feeling. He had experienced it himself. He still was. "It's been quite some time, hasn't it?"

"Has indeed!" she agreed almost gaily. "Come, sit with us." She invited him, pointing to an empty chair next to Vladimir.

"Ah, you are most kind but I just wanted to talk to Vlad about-"

But he didn't get to finish his phrase for a flustered Sophie climbed the stairs, pushing aside whoever stood on her path. "Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"

"What is the matter, Sophie?" the Empress seemed most puzzled and worried by her cousin's attitude. The woman had to sit down a little before explaining herself and Dimitri could see clearly the concern growing in the old woman's heart. "What's happened? Nothing bad, I hope."

"Oh, Your Majesty! Look!" she exclaimed producing a mask from behind her. Dimitri gasped recognizing immediately the mask as the one the girl he danced with wore "She's run off somewhere but no one can find her! As if she has vanished! That stupid, stupid girl!" she exclaimed blowing her nose in the handkerchief Vladimir offered her. "A gentleman saw her running to the back yard and throwing away her mask. She was crying, Your Majesty!" She cried in his arms a bit before speaking again. "Oh, I swear if anything has happened to our Anastasia, I don't know what I'll do!"

Dimitri's eyes widened a great deal lot and he shot a confused look to his friend. Vladimir only shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention to the crying woman in his arms. "Don't speak such words! She's around here somewhere! She must be taking a stroll in the gardens again. You know her, she is an adventurer!"

"What is wrong, Dimitri?" the great Empress addressed the young man whose jaw had dropped a great deal lot and whose eyes had gone totally blank, wearing no emotion in them. At first he did not react to the old woman's question until Vladimir cleared meaningfully his throat and gestured the Empress to Dimitri with his eyes. The man's face returned to its normal shape but the blood was still drained from it.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, what did you say?" he felt stupid and even more nervous than when he was dancing. But thinking back to the dance he had shared with that woman, his mind flew back to Anastasia. She was there. And he had been dancing with her. And they had both be ignorant of the fact. And the man she had been talking –and obviously thinking- of, was none other than himself. What an irony!

"I just notice you seem a little… distracted –for a lack of better term-. What's troubling you, my boy?" she replied goodnaturedly, but the concern the words Sophie had offered her was unmistakably visible in her wrinkled, kind face.

"Oh, it's…nothing, I'm…-just that…uhh…" he ran a nervous hand through his hair turning it into the usual mess it was before he managed to tamed it –it had been quite a struggle- with his brush and hairstyle tools Vlad had lent him. Suddenly he felt sweat damping his skin, so he had to remove his mask so to feel a bit more comfortable. Those latest events had been too sudden and weird to proceed.

He had accepted to go to that ball because Anya would be absent and yet he had found himself strolling awkwardly on the dancefloor with her. And he had not even figured it out. Glimpsing to Vlad's direction, suddenly it all became clearer. He had planned for it all to happen, his cunning, sneaky friend had taken care of everything. And obviously Anya had been unaware of the fact either. Was Vlad's purpose to reconciliate them? Well, it wasn't the best way

"Hmmm?" the Empress's low exclaim made him jerk his head to her and he realized he had been standing speechless before her. He idled his hands by playing with his mask as he searched his brain for an answer. He knew what the answer was and so did she, the woman was no fool. Just like he had observed before, she had the same big, cerulean orbs with her granddaughter. The same cleverness and foxy sharpness snuggling in them. He could just picture Anya gazing smugly at him with those eyes, an eyebrow cunningly arched and a posture of expectance and impatience.

"Well, uh… I… Anya, she's…" he was about to remark he had not expected to find her present when he suddenly recalled what Sophie had actually said. She had run away, crying and they had lost her tracks. And that was his fault. She had realized it was him the moment she gazed in his eyes, he could remember the moment clearly now. Looking to the balcony's wide open glass, he knew what he had to do. "Uh, beg your pardon, Your Majesty. I have to…"

And without voicing his thoughts to the end, he backed away, descending in wide strides the fancifully carpeted stairs. He pushed people aside and excused himself in an amount of times he could not recall. He was too focused on getting to the gardens and finding her. Within a few seconds, he had realized that perhaps he had been foolish back in Paris, like Vlad had well put it. What if he had confessed the truth? Whatever, he just had the sudden urge to see her face again and to tell her everything.

He swiftly found himself in the balcony of the back yard, where a great garden was laid before the palace, painted with the colours of every sort of flower and plant. They had managed to make it look identical to the one the gardeners used to attend to when he had been a kitchen boy. It looked beautiful. But it was also huge. He didn't know where to begin. He followed the path to his right and he almost immediately found a golden sash lying carelessly on the ground. He picked it up already convinced it was hers and threw his gaze towards each and every direction. Most part of the garden was lighted up by the bright flames of lanterns or by the colourful lights coming from the ballroom. He would have seen even a shadow of hers. But there was nothing.

Disappointed but not willing to give up so quickly he jogged to his right, his dark orbs restlessly roving over the area in quest of her. After a few minutes, he was convinced; it was not an easy task, but he would achieve it one way or the other. He would find the Princess who had gone lost yet again.

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><p><strong> So what do you think will happen next? I have the next chapter already written but I will increase your impatience for a little while. Yeah, I'm that evil! Oh come on, tomorrow it will be up! But until then, would you do me the honour of leaving me a review? :D thank you for reading -and reviewing, if you do!-<br>**


	5. Chapter 5

**I do not own Anastasia or the characters. Just the plot of this story :D  
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><p>"Good morning, sunshine!"<p>

Dimitri grunted and placed his head underneath his pillow, blocking the intrusive sunrays out of his sight and showing clearly his sentiments to Vlad. Despite his sleepiness, however, he did notice something was different. Firstly, the pillow was just too… soft, as if it was made of silk and so were the sheets and blanket. Not to mention the mattress was actually comfortable and snuggly warm, inviting you to bury yourself in it and never want to get out. And then, there was that smell of cleanness and clearness, it was just too intense to ignore.

Slightly forcing his heavy eyelids open, he gazed through his half shut eyes the room around him, taking in his surroundings. The colours of bloodred and royal golden were dominating, surrounding him while the furnishing was both terribly unfamiliar and yet weirdly familiar. As if he had seen such expensive coffee table and chairs or fanciful carpets. He knew he had seen it somewhen, somewhere before, he just could not recall due to his sleepiness.

He sat up and buried his face in his palms, protecting it from the indiscreet sun rays. Suddenly it all came rushing back to him; the ball, the dance, the Princess, her disappearance. He had slept that night in the Palace, Vlad had invited him and despite his protests, the Empress kind of ordered him in her sweet, caring manner. It's not that he did not wish to spend a night in a palace with the hope that by the morning Anastasia would have returned, he just felt weird and awkward living in the place he had spent his three most well-remembered years of his juvenile life.

"You'd better have a good reason for this interruption. I was in the middle of a dream."

Vlad stood before him and with his elbow, he supported himself on the bed's post. The eyebrow of his arched in cleverness didn't escape the young man's attention and actually made him suspicious. "Oh, I'm well aware of the fact!" he said almost mysteriously. "Still having 'nightmares' about Anya calling us a baby, are we?"

Dimitri stared at him alarmed and looked away with dignity. "I have no idea what you mean."

The chubby man rolled his eyes. "Fine." And without a warning, he threw on Dimitri's face his cloths that a moment before were lying scattered up on the royal floor. "Get up and look decent. The Empress wants to show us something. And judging by her attitude, it's of grave importance, hence… be quick about it!"

"All right, all right! I'll be ready in a minute! Just keep your voice down, it's still morning!" Dimitri raised his hands in surrender as he got off bed, Vlad's loud voice banging like a bell in his head, causing his headache to increase.

Dimitri scanned the room for a clock but found none. Had he slept too much? Well, probably the effects of too much wine and sitting up late. He had never made more haste moves as he was dressing up in his entire life. The same cloths he had been wearing the night before, he noticed in disdain but instantly ignored it. In less than five minutes, he was standing at the hallway beside a very impressed Vlad.

"An outstanding record for your standards I must admit." The man observed funnily. Dimitri had never been one to be ready in time, always running late at least ten minutes. But this time he had outdone himself. "Look what love can do to man!" Dimitri's facial expression was priceless, making Vlad wish he carried a box camera on his personal. "Couldn't you at least tidy –just a bit- this mess of a hair of yours?"

"Don't you ever shut it?" Dimitri groaned in nuisance as he let the man lead him through the corridors to the Empress's study room. It's not like he did not remember the way; to the contrary, he felt as if it was just yesterday he had been wandering in those corridors, searching for an escape from the cook. The place was just as immense and majestic as he remembered it so clearly to be.

It wasn't long till they were standing in the Empress's private room, her and Sophie the only ones waiting for them, much to Dimitri's disappointment. But he overcame that bitter feeling upon facing the old woman's sad and concerned face. He could see she had been crying. Sophie, her faithful cousin, was by her side and patting her comfortingly on the shoulder, the same grave look darkening her face as well.

He bowed before expressing his perplexion and worries. "Your Majesty. Sophie. What is wrong?"

"She has not returned." Sophie spoke on the Empress's behalf, a sob nearly escaping her. The words felt like a dagger piercing the man's heart. "More like, she has left. She came back late at night and left this."

Dimitri accepted the piece of paper he was given and read it thirstily, reading carefully each word. With every syllable, he could practically imagine Anya writing it. However, there was something off about that letter. Each punctuation mark was a stab of the pen. He could tell she had been writing in haste by the upcurl of the letters and by how the periods had tails from where she was too rushed to lift the pen completely.

In that letter, she was apologizing to her grandmother for leaving like this but she had to think –though it was unclear what she wished to think-. She did not mention where her destination was and she was asking everyone not to try to follow her for she needed some time alone. Was this all a result of his presence? Was it his fault? He knew he should have never accepted the invite.

He read it over and over again, hoping to find something more, though he did not know what he was looking for. It was weird how the letter lacked of emotions, Anastasia was a woman who never hesitated to let the others know what she felt. But this time, it was just a plain letter in which she was informing of her wishes and actions. It was almost cold.

"What is strange, however," Sophie's voice made him look over the piece of paper and had him practically anxiously waiting for what she meant to say. "the maids report she didn't go at all in her room last night, and when they searched her closet, everything was intact. She has left with no cloths or even money."

"What? That's not possible.." Dimitri gazed back down at the letter pensively. "But the letter was there?"

"Actually, I found it here, on my desk." The Empress spoke for the first time, placing an open palm over her study so to indicate the exact place she had found it.

"Uh-huh.." the man murmured again, never taking his eyes off that paper. He brought it even closer to his face, noticing for the first time one thing so obvious and yet so well hidden. Some of the letters were more intensely written since she had pressed almost violently the quill on them and they were actually easily distinguished, such as the letter H in the word tHink. With no hesitation, he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and wrote them down all one by one and double checked the letter until he had found them all.

"This is not making any sense but what if…" he kept on mumbling to himself, taking little notice to the three figures standing above his head and trying to figure out what he was trying to do. "They're in the wrong order…"

"Dimitri, look!" Vladimir practically exclaimed as he abruptly removed the pen off his hand and started writing down himself a single word. "_PARIS_! That's where she is! Now as for those…"

But Dimitri didn't stay any longer to try and figure out the remaining four letters. He rushed out of the door, searching himself for any spare money. He was glad Vladimir stopped him. before the man had a chance to tell him what he meant to, Dimitri had grabbed some money from Vlad's pockets and was descending in wide strides the stairs.

"Dimitri, you must hurry!"But he was able to hear the man's words before he finally exited the palace. "The other word is _HELP_!"

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><p><strong>Okay fine! I admit it! I ran two dates late but you can forgive me, can you not? :) I'm not taking this too far, am I? I didn't want it to be a regular fluffy story of reunion! So I can only hope you actually like it since you don't have the decency to let me know if you do (hint hint!<strong>) **Well, I do owe a big 'thanks' to Trashbugs since she's really supportive and kind! So thank you! :D **


	6. Chapter 6

**I do not own Anastasia or the characters. Just the plot of this story and in this chapter the annoying old lady and her grandchildren! :D  
><strong>

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><p>"Anastasia."<p>

Eyes tightly shut, not letting even the brightest of sunrays in.

"Anastasia."

Lips firmly pursed, locking the sobs behind clenched teeth.

"Anastasia."

Knees drawn to chest, trembling arms hugging them protectively.

"Anastasia."

The voice was eerie, ghostly, almost spooky. But what was making it even chillier? The familiarity. She has heard it before, she was so sure she'd bet all of her money on it.

It was not approaching her, it was fading away but yet it felt so close. It was haunting her. She finally let a sob escape her lips as she pressed her palms over her ears and begged that she would wake up and find that it was all just a dream. Like the one she had had on board the Tasha. If only there was Dimitri around to save her again.

"Anastasia."

It was getting a cruel and viciously satisfied tone. What had she done to deserve such a fate? Who was he, anyway?

With a groan of fear and irritation, she stood up and forced her eyes open. The playful sunlight blinding her and she gasped in shock and burning pain. She pressed her fingers on her eyes and after a moment, they had gotten used to that ungodly awakening. Awakening?

She sat up and looked around in frenzy. An empty, cold room and just a blanket she was sleeping on. She was about to stand up when suddenly the room rocked violently and had her walking on all fours on the cool floor. An earthquake? Where was she? She could hardly remember anything. And that sudden, devastating headache was not making easier for her to think or remember. She was lost…again. Why did this always happen? And this time she had no clue, not one. Not even her precious necklace, she noticed as she absentmindedly drove a hand on her chest where it usually was hanging.

She managed to stand on her feet and look out the window. It wasn't an earthquake after all. She was on a train. A train that had just arrived in Paris. How on earth had she gotten there? Wasn't she in Russia, St. Petersburg, for the last couple of days?

Raising a hand over her aching head, she glanced down at her. She was in a beautiful gown which was way too fancy to be an everyday dress. She was even wearing white elbow-high gloves. She tripped a little as she walked, trying to remember calmly the events. She was in Russia, and then… a ball. She had runaway. Why had she…? _Dimitri_. She was dancing with Dimitri, that much she could remember. Or was it just a dream too? Because everything after that waltz seemed so faraway, they were so blurry and fading, as if they really were a dream.

She had not realized she had walked out of the train until a passenger cared for her wellbeing. She faked a smile and lied that she was fine and she then let her feet drag her… somewhere. She had no clue whatsoever as to where she was heading, it felt as though she had no control of her feet. They just knew the place to take her. The only problem was that she did not know of that place.

In her two-month stay in Paris, she had searched every corner of the grand city, but she had never been in that place. She tilted her head slightly backwards as she examined the unfamiliar and hostile houses that gave her the creeps. With a gulp, she hastily passed them by and found herself in a grand avenue, everything was still in a blur in her head that she could not name or recognize it. She just followed it along and found herself at a dead end. She rolled her eyes in nuisance and took her gloves off, throwing them away. She had no idea what she was searching for but she was looking for something. And she had to keep walking.

So walk she did.

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><p>Dimitri just could not have a moment of rest.<p>

It was comforting that Anya's train had departed just two hours before his, so should God give him a helping hand, he would catch up with her and save her from whatever mess she has thrown herself into again. However, that was not enough for him so to stop bouncing up and down nervously his leg as he sank uncomfortably in his seat. She had obviously been kidnapped but by who? Did they wish to ask for ransom of the Empress? That was the only reasonable explanation. Why else would someone want to abduct the Grand Duchess anyway? She had no enemies, at least, she had never mentioned she did.

"Sir, do you mind?" the old woman sitting beside him placed a ceasing hand on his knee, giving him a clear message. She did not seem disturbed or annoyed, but she was not friendly either, nothing like the kind of old ladies he'd accidentally bump on in the streets sometimes. "It's kind of upsetting me."

"I beg your pardon, ma'am." He uttered and looked out the window, getting lost in his thoughts again. If they had abducted her for money, then how would he be able to save her? He was alone and not to mention penniless. Actually, the only belongings he was bringing to Paris with him were the clothes and shoes he was wearing, a little money that was left over and Anastasia's letter in his pocket. Vlad had somehow slipped it in there while Dimitri was grabbing money from his pockets. Kind of ridiculous, really.

Something pressured him hard on the hip, not in an extent of pain but it was enough to snap him out of his thoughts yet again and turn him slightly irritated now. He glanced down at his leg only to see the lady's hand there again, pressing his foot down with quite some force, making him stop his nervous movement. "You have not stopped, sir. Do be calm so that I can read my book in peace."

"Uh.. forgive me, madam, it's just that… I'm really… nervous… Sorry." He tried to apologise but stuttering made him feel like a fool.

"You don't say…" He thought he heard the woman snicker as she withdrew her hand and used it to turn over a page of her book. He lowered slightly his head and narrowed his dark eyes in an attempt to read the title. _The Murder of Roger Ackroyd,_Agatha Christie's latest novel. He disguised his chuckle by coughing. What was an old woman of her age doing with that book?

"She's in Paris?"

Dimitri jerked his head upwards and faced her questioningly. "I'm sorry, who?"

"The one who's got you so nervous. She's in Paris?" Even the lady had figured him out. Was he that transparent? Well, that had never happened before. As a conman he had become a master at lying or covering up a lie with other lies. Maybe Vlad was right after all. He _had_ changed. He wasn't sure if he liked he had, being a conman was all he had known doing –that and serving people- and it had served him quite well. Up until he met that blasted woman who always got herself in trouble. And _he_ always had to save _her_. Naturally. And he was not even a Prince to save the distressed damsel/Princess. He used to be a kitchen boy.

"Kind of." He simply said, shrugging his shoulders, shrugging off the matter. He was in no mood to engage himself in a conversation over love and heartbreak. He was not good at it. Plus, just because he had fallen for Anya, it did not mean that he had become a mushy, lovey dovey type of man or that he felt comfortable talking about it with some strange woman. He felt weird even when Vlad would suggest it.

"Have you told her?" the woman asked again and he had to look away so that she would not see him rolling his eyes.

"No." he knew exactly what she meant so he replied firmly, wishing she'd get the message and leave him be. Even the pair of little girls sitting opposed to them were giggling, glancing at his direction. How humiliating, being laughed at by little girls. Only Anya had the right to do so, because that suggested he'd humiliate her in return. But that was just a game they used to play since the day they first met, that's why it felt so familiar playing it with her.

"Uh, you should. That is the reason you're going there, isn't it?" the woman asked rhetorically but did not leave him the chance of answering back. "How romantic! I wish my husband would have done the same for me…!"

Dimitri gritted his teeth and sank even deeper in the seat, slapping his head with his palm in nuisance. Of course that only produced another wave of giggles from the girls who, he later learned, were the woman's granddaughters. He sighed and focused his attention out of the window. This would be a long journey. Very long indeed.

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><p><strong>So in the next chapter we will have ourselves some progress in the 'adventurous' part XD if you know what I mean. And I suppose you have guessed by now who the kidnapper of Anastasia is, right? I mean it's so obvious, so out there!<strong>

** Oh, that old lady who just sets Dimitri's teeth on edge has no purpose whatsoever, just had to have someone keep him company and saving him from utter boredom and probably realise a thing or two!**

** And as for her book, yeah, it's really and Agatha Christie novel that was published in 1926, the year where the movie Anastasia supposedly takes place. Just a bit of information :)**

**I have the next chapter written but I'll wait a day or maybe two before publishing it ^^ Sorry for being such an irritating person!**

**Review if you like but I just hope you like the story and liked this chapter also!**

**See ya! :)  
><strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own Anastasia or the characters. Just the plot of this story!  
><strong>

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><p>Night was beginning to spreading her mauve, gentle veil above the restless City of Lights and still the young woman was wandering around the capital's endless streets. She just could not stay in one place, something was prodding her on walking, perhaps a divine power, or some kind of magic. A thought which she found absolutely absurd but she would not stop thinking it was the only reasonable explanation. But as the afternoon gave its place to the evening, so did her strength to yield.<p>

Supporting herself on a bridge's ceilings, she waited for a sign, a clue to know what she was to do.

But a ghastly voice reached her ears, alarming all of her five senses. She stood in the middle of the bridge and looked around almost desperately and saw she had been left alone. How was that possible? She remembered lots of people passing her by, chattering and laughing merrily. Where everybody had gone? But as she distracted her suspenseful mind, the voice shook her out of her thoughts as it turned into a disgusting laughter of victory.

"Princess Anastasia."

She gasped and turned around expecting to come face to face with the owner of the voice. But still there was no one to be seen. She was starting to get anxious. She was all alone in Paris and she was weak in the middle of an empty bridge.

"Let me give you a tour, Your Highness." Her tired, ocean blue eyes never ceased scanning the area for the man. But not finding him was both disappointing him and alarming.

"To your right, you can see the Eiffel Tour, the city's most famous building." She glanced at said building with her brows knitted. What was happening? Who was that man and what was his point? "To your left, the city's most precious church, Notre Dame." He continued, upsetting her even more with this attitude. "And this very bridge we're standing on, the Alexander III bridge, is named after your grandpa upon which he met… his… _death_."

She gasped in horror at his last whispered word and this time, when she looked over her shoulder in quest of the man, her eyes met with a cloaked, skinny man with long, dark beard and a reliquary hanging loosely from around his wrist. His face was shadowed by his hood therefore it was unrecognizable but there was an aura about him menacing, familiar. Had she met him before?

"Your Imperial Highness. I hope you enjoyed my little tour, found it... amusing." He hissed in a hostile whisper, the promise of vile laughter lingering on.

Gazing upon the man, a picture of a memory hit her hard like a rock. "That face." She was writing a letter. A man was holding a dagger behind her back. She tried to fight back but then everything… blacked out.

"Oh, yes, Princess. We have met before. Remember?" the man almost yelled as his hood fell off. But she had no time to take a glimpse at his face for a dark green wave of magic surrounded her, twirled her so wildly she lost orientation for a moment. But with that wave of magic, a wave of brand new memories overtook her. She could remember everything now.

At the ball, she had runaway so to avoid Dimitri. She met with a man who pretended he wanted to help her. Instead he surprised her by pressing a knife at her throat and forcing her to find her way to her grandmother's study, where she was forced to write a letter of goodbye. The letter did not mention where he would be taking her or that a man was threatening her at all. She remembered coding a message in her letters and after folding the paper, attacking the man but failing as he knocked her out of consciousness for obviously two days or even more. And he had eventually led her to Paris while she was unconscious. Only God knows how he had achieved that.

But there was more to the story. Those days before, that wasn't their first meeting. A couple of days ago, she had acknowledged him as a man of her deepest nightmares, a dark figure who haunted her memories. She had recognized him as the man who had cursed and murdered her family, as… "Rasputin!"

"And I was starting to fret you had forgotten me!" the man jeered her before his face suddenly darkened threateningly and he slowly approached her, pointing at her an accusing wrinkled, rotten –much to Anya's surprise and even amusement- finger. "Yes, it is Rasputin! Destroyed by _your_ despicable _family_!"

"What are you talking about? The only despicable one I can remember is you! _You_ destroyed my family! Not the other way around!" anger and determination gradually raising in her, boiling in her veins as she faced the reason of her orphanhood, of her lost years and memories, of hers and her grandmother's pain, of her family's murder.

At her courageous words, the man laughed in mocking deviousness as he slightly raised his reliquary from which a glowing, green light was coming. "Well, Princess, what goes around comes around… and round…and round…!" with circling waves of his free hand, he released the same green mist and the girl was suddenly surrounded by little flying monsters that were tearing her dress apart and were making her dizzy.

"Stop, stop!" She started walking backwards in an attempt to get away from them but that only happened when her back collided with the bridge's stony ceilings. "I'm not afraid of you!" she yelled bravely, meaning every word and was about to defend herself and her family's honour when he started walking towards her laughing victoriously.

"I can fix that! Care for a little swim, under the ice?" he questioned rhetorically before lifting the source of his magical powers and with another frightfully bright glow of his reliquary, a large part of the bridge, the part she was standing on, started giving away and soon she found herself hanging for dear life from the ceilings of the bridge's part that was hanging loosely over the magically iced water of the river, and was about to give away.

She started struggling her way upwards, to salvation, but the vibrating movements of the paved street were making it hard. But she had to keep fighting. She could not let that horrible man win the war, for that's what it was; a war. She heard him laughing his usual victorious, evil laugh and that was only pushing her to her rescue. But she would not make it. He was waiting for her and was about to finish her off with just a wave of that damned thing he was holding. "Say your prayers, Anastasia! No one can save you now!"

"Wanna bet?" she jerked her head upwards at the sound of an awfully familiar only to see Rasputin losing his balance and falling on all fours because of the force a man had put in his fist.

_Dimitri_.

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><p><strong>All right, just because I've been in Paris does not mean that I know where everything is. So you have to forgive me if the Eiffel Tour is not opposite to Notre Dame or whatever. But the bridge on which the fight between Rasputin and Anya&amp;Dimitri takes place in the film, is really named Alexander III after the real Anastasia's grandfather. Well, I do not think he died on it but I just wanted to be dramatic XD<strong>

**Sorry for this really short chapter but hopefully in the next chapter the battle will be won and over with :D**

**Care for a little review? (:  
><strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**I do not own Anastasia or the characters. Just the plot of this story!  
><strong>

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><p>Without giving the matter a second thought, the young man took off his suit's jacket and threw it away as he charged on the unknown but hideous man –who looked like a dead corpse. He put in his firm fist all of his force and will and punched the evil man right on the nose, earning a groan of pain out of his lips as he lost balance and tripped on the paved ground.<p>

As soon as Dimitri made sure the, obviously, kidnapper of the Russian Princess was out of his way, he leaped into space and found himself sliding with his stomach down the piece of street that was hanging over the frozen (?) river of Seine. He extended his arms, not caring one bit for his expensive, white shirt getting torn and dirty, and managed to halt himself before Anastasia who was struggling to push herself up. She willing accepted his hold and gripped him around the wrists as if her life depended on them –which it actually did. "Dimitri, how did you-?"

"Later." He cut her off, guessing her question, though he couldn't see her point of asking him such a thing. She had coded a message in her letter, hadn't she? Didn't she remember?

Anya gritted her teeth as she struggled to push herself up as Dimitri tried to pull her with him. They would have almost succeeded if it weren't for that sorcerer's accursed magic. The same green cloud encircled Dimitri's chest and working like a hard rope, it pulled him away from her and on one of the massive, stony horses decorating the bridge's columns. But what was more shocking was that said horse actually got a life. Its eyes turned a bright, menacing red as it suddenly started galloping and riding hard with Dimitri on its back.

"No!" she heard a voice scream and realized it was filled with the same panic and agony that had overwhelmed her heart. Her screaming reminded Rasputin of the condition she was in and he started laughing viciously again, a laughter that she knew it would haunt her nightmares if she lived through his curse.

Dimitri was now thrown off the stony demon and was struggling against it with just a single piece of metal. She had managed to reach the very edge of the broken bridge the moment the wreck sank in the icy water. With an extended arm, she searched for help as she called out for him but the horse was succeeding in keeping him occupied and not letting him even catch a glimpse of her.

Her pleading call went answered by the living corpse of a man who pulled her up just a bit, grabbing her by the back of her torn dress and her neck and lifting her enough so that she was fully facing him as he was crouching before her. "Da svidaniya,Your Highness!" he whispered in that cunning malefic voice of his, before letting go of her and letting her fall into space. Luckily, thanks to her trained reflexes –when you grow up as an orphan, you've got plenty of time to practice with children younger than yourself- she managed to get hold of a metal piece sticking out of the broken bridge.

"Finally, the last Romanov dead!" she heard him exclaim in victory and pride, almost celebrating. She hoped he thought her dead. But judging by Dimitri's cry and probably running towards her –she couldn't see but she heard his hard, rushed footsteps against the pavement- they both had her dead. Which was a good sign, the element of surprise was the best tactic in one's plan, she always thought.

She managed to climb up on the bridge, right behind an elevated part of the paved bridge. She bit her lips as she watched Dimitri still struggling for her against that murderous, ungodly creature. She had to put an end to everything now; for the man who risked his life for her, for her dead family who deserved revenge and honour and for herself.

"Long live the Romanovs!" the shakily laughing voice of the impious man echoed again and she saw him holding up victoriously his reliquary, gazing at it almost thankfully. She stepped forward, determination and fury driving her every step. Her sweet face had turned into a mask of menace and hatred and had she not be wearing a dress she would surely have found herself in a fighting position, like a hunter locating her pray.

"Right!" she shouted out loud, poison dripping from her voice. His hearted laughter was cut short and he turned to face her in shock and disbelief. "I couldn't have said it better myself!" she found herself spitting out before she gathered her ripped skirts and raced towards him. Caught off guard as he was, he had no time to react as she charged and jumped on him, sending him flat on his back against the hard ground and knocking the reliquary out of his grasp.

She tried to reach it but surprisingly, another arm grasped it before her. "Dimitri?" she exclaimed in wonder, obviously he had managed to escape the demon's attention for a brief moment, but this time it was Rasputin's turn to surprise her by pushing her hard off of him and sending her several feet away from him. He stood on his feet and scanned the area for the source of his power which he located in the young conman's hand.

"Lost something… zombie?" he arched a cunning brow as he played with the item in his hand. A growl of fury boiled out of Rasputin's chest as he prepared himself to launch on Dimitri. The man, however, chuckled triumphantly. "Your Highness, please don't drop it! It's kind of important to the poor dead man." He threw the reliquary in the air just the moment the possessed horse landed behind him and knocked him down with its stony legs.

The item hit the ground without breaking and ended up under Anya's heel. Looking cleverly at Rasputin, Anya pressed lightly her heel on the item, making the glass crack a little. As the spell started being undone by that small cracking, the stony horse started shattering and breaking in pieces, one of which hit violently Dimitri on the head, leaving him lying on the ground unconsciously.

Anya gasped at the sight shocked. No matter how mad and hurt she was by the young conman, she had no intention whatsoever of seeing him getting hurt in anyway. "This is for Dimitri!" she yelled in anger and stepped with might on the item again, the glass cracking a bit more. Rasputin was on his knees by now before her, grabbing on her dress. "No! I'll tear you to pieces! Give it to me!"

He was the man who had ruined her happy life, hers and many other people's. But mostly, her family's. He didn't deserve pity or mercy and remorse would never visit her for as long as she lived for getting rid of him. "This is for my family!" she yelled again, stepping even harder with her heel on it, a bright glow which previously was green was darkening, getting blood-red. Taking another look at the man who showed no kindness or mercy to any loved one of hers, she gave the final blow. "And this, this is for you!" she was shouting at the top of her lungs now.

"Da svidaniya!" she spoke the same words he had spoken to her just moments ago. She pressed hard the reliquary, as if her own life depended on it. The moment she saw a green light descending from the dark heavens and landing mercilessly on Rasputin, sucking his life away, she rushed by Dimitri's side, knelt next to him and shielded his unconscious body with hers as broken pieces of pavement and magic forces were flying in the air.

For a moment, she couldn't see anything and she didn't care to see. All she cared about was that justice had been given. And Dimitri was unconscious. As soon as silence and calm took over, she sat up and rolled Dimitri on his back. She took his face in her hands gently and whispered his name. When receiving no reply, a soft sob escaped her lips and she buried her face in her dirty palms. She didn't even want to think that Dimitri might be dead and that she was the cause.

But she was saved from such thoughts when the man moaned in pain softly and raised a hand over his aching head. "Dimitri? Ah!" she exclaimed in surprised glee and threw herself on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her rushed actions, however, only caused him more pain and he had to push her away.

"Let go, let go, let go! Ugh!" he stood on his knees and with a hand over his stomach, doubled up. She stood up as well, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder which he probably interpreted falsely. "Yeah, I know… all men are babies…" he hurried to speak before she did and she rolled her eyes.

"Not what I meant to say but true nonetheless!" she replied and earned a frown from him as he finally got over the pain and was fully facing her. "How did you get here?"

"Didn't you leave a letter with a message?"

"I did." She simply said feeling foolish realizing her stupid mistake not remembering. But she had her ways to cover up her humiliation and to lighten up the mood. "I didn't think you'd be able to decipher my coded message though!"

"Uhh, same old Anya!" he observed and much to her surprise, he seemed content and happy with it. She couldn't not smile at that. "Now, will you explain to me, who was that... corpse and what the hell did he bring you in Paris for? To give us extra trouble and worries?"

"And will you explain to me what the hell you were doing at the ball?" she retorted and he huffed at how accusing she looked. He raised his hands in surrender and stood up.

"I was invited, one of the Empress's special guests in fact." He decided to answer first if he wished to get an explanation from her too. He had learned to know when to withdraw and when to insist with her. "Had it not been for Vlad, his... _cream puff_ and your grandmother I would have never come! I swear! But looks like it was a good thing after all…"

"How so?" she inquired looking demanding.

"I don't think any other person in their senses would have gone the trouble of following you to Paris with the hope of saving your _royal butt_, would they now?"

"Any why did you go all this trouble to save my _butt_?" she snapped back at him and he suddenly found her standing close to him, _too_ close to him, tapping an inquisitive finger on his chest. He opened his lips to speak but realized he could never tell her the truth. He could never tell her that he did everything because he loved her. Being a conman had made him an artist when it came down to lying. "Because you were feeling guilty about everything that has happened between us, huh? Say it! Admit it! You only came because you were feeling guilty!"

He sighed and rolled his eyes before pushing her aside and collecting his jacket from the ground. He shook the garment and was relieved to hear the merry tingling of money in his pockets. "What if we go and buy tickets to St. Petersburg and on the way we can… have…a… civilized conversation. Huh?"

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><p><p>

**So? :D Did you like it? :D I LOVE it! :D Yes, I got too excited because I reunited them! How crazy can a girl be? Anyway, I hope you liked my little twist and their little talk. They're going to have a real, great, satisfying chat in the next chapter, I promise! :D Till then, how about a little review? :D  
><strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**If I owned Anastasia I would be rich, which I am not. So obviously I do not own it, which is a pity.  
><strong>

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><p>"So, you're saying you did me a… a favour?" Anya practically exclaimed in a bewildered , shocked manner that gave away her insulted vanity.<p>

Dimitri shook his head in denial, rolling his eyes at her conduct towards him. And then she called _him_ a baby! It really was the other way around, at least this time. Naturally, she would jump on conclusions of her own, that were usually false and then she would not let him speak up his mind and give an explanation. He sighed. "All I'm saying is being a princess is not entailed to being a damsel in distress."

"Ha!" she snorted ironically. "I should think that you were the distressed damsel since _I_ defeated Rasputin while you were playing Sleeping Beauty!" she suddenly shut her lips and for a moment her eyes sparked in ingenious surprise. "It even rhythms!"

"The _horse_ knocked me out!" he protested fervently, ignoring her childish comment with a roll of his dark eyes, and he was about to continue when he suddenly realized something. "Rasputin? Monk Grigori Rasputin? Was that him?"

Anya gave him a quizzical look, arching a puzzled brow as she replied positively. The fact that he actually knew the corpse of a man's full name intrigued her indescribably greatly. Even _she_ didn't know his full name. "How did you-? Why do you ask?"

"Wha-? You- you don't- remember?" his surprise made him stutter a bit especially when she shook negatively her head. "Oh, well, he was one of the few people your family trusted the most. The Empress Alexandra was extremely fond of him after he healed Alexei from a deadly disease and I do recall hearing rumours of the Grand Duchesses addressing to him as 'our friend'. It's odd you do not remember that."

The young Princess listened carefully to Dimitri's words while her penetrating gaze was glued on the paved street under her feet. She had very few memories of her early childhood and she also had to thank that amnesia of hers. However, trying too hard, she could see a foggy picture and a blurred vision of a little boy not older than six years old. He was bedridden and was looking in admired awe at a cloaked man before him.

She shut her eyes tightly and tried to focus more intensely on that image. But it almost instantly faded away, giving its place to another different one. She realized it was a moment of when she and Maria, her sister, were eavesdropping on a conversation. Her father, the Tsar was asking him to leave St. Petersburg for a while but she could not know the reason. Her mother was also present and she seemed dreadfully sorry. The monk accepted with difficulty and in a scornful manner the order.

"If we were so close to him, why did he come to hate my family so? Why did he curse us?" the words were barely heard as the intensity of her vivid memoirs was still vexing her while confusion was blurring her mind.

Dimitri shrugged and ran a hand through his unruly hair before throwing his jacket over his shoulder. "I don't remember the exact reason. Something about 'disgracing the Royal Family and betraying your father'. And the Tsar banishing him from the Imperial Russia." He replied with knitted brows as he tried to recall the exact events.

Being the kitchen boy, he had not been able to learn much since he was locked up in a kitchen. Whatever information he knew, it came by the numerous times he tried to eavesdrop. And at the time, he had not paid real attention, he didn't really care. "I do remember him coming uninvited at the celebration of the Romanov line's 300th anniversary. He was holding that… thing you broke and he…well, that was the night he put the curse on your family. Three days after that night, the Russian Revolution broke out and… well… you know the rest…" he decided it was best if he did not fully reminded her of the way her beloved ones were cruelly murdered.

"Wow…" she whispered looking somewhat absentminded and Dimitri could swear he caught glimpse of the ghosts of the past swimming in those deep, cerulean pools of hers. "I do recall… broken memories and… shattered dreams –more like nightmares, actually- with him included…but nothing much. I can see through them, however, that you are right."

"I…am." Was his reply, feeling dumb to not have found a better one. "Anyone, it matters not. At least you're…safe..now."

"Yes." Her soft voice quivered with uncertainty and awkwardness. "Thanks to you…"

"What?" he stopped dead in his tracks as they were walking by the river and turned to face her. "Was…was that… you actually…_thanking_…_me_?"

She pursed her lips, trying her hardest to hide her chuckle but failing miserably. "Probably the first and last time!" she said in a steady voice, the unmistakable playful tone of hers easily identified. "Oh, and _zombie_?"

"Do not deny it, he looked a hell lot like one!"

"Oh, and you have probably met a bunch of them, haven't you?"

"I do know what a corpse looks like, Highness!" was the comeback that made her shut her rosy lips as he gave her an intent stare. "Just admit that you thought it was funny! Actually, admit that you think that I am funny!"

Anya snorted in laughter. "All right, I admit it." He raised his brows thinking she had given up too quickly. "You do look funny!"

He rolled his eyes, enjoying the merry tone of her girlish chuckle. He was perplexed at her sudden silent attitude as she stared at a passing boat floating gracefully on the calm, dark waters of Seine, a longing spark in her ocean blue eyes. He was about to question her as her gaze dropped on the toes of her heels when she spoke first. It was a single, quiet word but it was enough to make him understand what she meant. _"Why?"_

He ran a nervous hand through his unruly, chestnut hair, a bubble of regret threatening to burst in his chest. "I was out of place…" he started saying when she cut him off, suddenly twirling around to meet his face with fury written all over hers.

"No! You were a coward!" she yelled at the top of hers lungs and several of the people passing by them gave her funny looks. "You were a coward from the very beginning! You didn't tell me about your, oh, so _brilliant_ con, even when you found out I was really the Grand Duchess! And then you lied about taking the money!"

He lowered his head in shame, avoiding meeting her eyes. "All right, perhaps you're right. But I was afraid."

"Of what!"

"Of you!" he blurted out in frustration, waving vividly his arms in the air. "Of how you would react! And what I was afraid of actually came true! That's why I left like-"

"So you admit it then." Her voice was much calmer now and he was surprised she did not finish his phrase with some insulting remark of hers and to also find comprehension reflected on her face. "You left _without accepting the reward_! But why didn't you change your mind when I tried to talk to you about it?"

"Because even if you had forgiven me, I would have indeed felt out of place, like I told you. I am a kitchen boy! You…you are a _Princess_! And I do not deserve you."

"So you admit it?"

"What? What do I have to admit again?" he cried in frustration and saw the Princess's sapphire eyes grinning idiotically even though her lips had remained a firm line. She could master her facial expression too well, she was born to be a royal, that much he could see.

"That you want to be with me." she replied calmly. She walked up to him, too close to him for both their good, and gazed in his eyes, though to him it felt as if she were gazing right into his soul. A conman's soul. A conman and yet he could not master a lie to send her away and have her live her life without being troubled by him, neither could he disguise his affectionate feelings for her that he was certain were showing on his face. "Dimitri, how can you say you do not deserve me when you literally crossed lands to rescue me?"

"Well, I guess-" he started saying nervously, practically disarmed by her words and the tenderness of her face.

"Please," she raised a hand. "Don't talk anymore, it's only gonna upset me!"

He gave her a funny and faked scolding look as he recalled her vividly speaking the exact same words in a train wagon. She flushed him a clever grin and turned her back on him, continuing her walk as a leader to the train station. She did know the parisian streets better than he and much to his disdain, he was forced to follow her like a lost puppy. That blasted woman, always knew how to humiliate him. "Fine, I'll be quiet if you are!"

"Fine!" she exclaimed in a low voice, twirling around herself as she did so, to look at him as she spoke. "I am not going to speak another word. I'll just wait for you to say it."

"Say what?"

"I don't know." She shrugged her shoulders and offered him an innocent smile, twirling yet again and he huffed in nuisance. She knew perfectly well what she wanted him to say. The problem was that he didn't. "In case you are in need of some help, they are three words. You get to choose which three!"

He rolled his eyes. What kind of new game was that? Well, he had to admit he liked it. There was nothing he enjoyed as much as a playful Anya. So he decided to play along. "I am sorry?"

He saw her nodding from behind. "A good start." She only said. So she wanted to hear more. Another three words perhaps? "Please forgive me?"

"Repeating yourself, plus, I already have." She retorted immediately which was why the shock overtook him a minute after she had spoken them. She had forgiven him.

"Come with me?" he attempted again, though this time they both could make out the cheeky seriousness and longing in his deep, hoarse voice.

Anya smirked with content to herself and she could feel already a rush of blood making its way on her already pinky, by the freezing Parisian air, cheeks. She wanted to scream out a 'yes' but she decided to continue her little game a bit more. "Looks like _you_ are coming with _me_ –more like following me- back to Russia."

"Come _away_, with me." he said again, replying faster than before much to her surprise and delight.

"If I am not mistaken those are four words. You are breaking the rules of the game."

"And I'm about to break them again." He sounded much to certain and confident now, he could feel even his steps more steady and certain as well as he sped up his pace so that he was walking side by side with her. He took a deep breath, he knew she would welcome his words but he still felt nervous. Such declarations of affection and heart-felt conversations were not his forte. But he somehow felt excited and relieved to be rid of those particular words. So he sucked in another breath and smiled smugly.

"I love you, come away with me."

His grin only grew wider and much more wickedly content as she froze dead in her tracks and her eyes widened greatly. He leaned closer to her so that his lips were practically brushing against her ear. "What's the matter, Highness? Cat got your tongue?"

But before he could fully taste the delicious sweetness of victory, a swish in the air and a rock smashing against his cheek made his head fly and his head spin. "You creep!" he heard her yell. Why was she acting in such manner? "Was it so hard to say these words two months ago?"

"Why, what's wrong?"

"I love you too!"

"Then why did you just slap me?"

"Because you deserve it as much as you deserve me! Because had you spoken the truth back then, things would have been different now!"

"All right all right, I made a mistake! Can we forget the past now?"

She jutted out her lower lip in a way he thought a cute, stubborn little girl would, and folded her arms across her chest. "I suppose we could." She mumbled averting her eyes on the pavement before she surprised him by placing a gentle palm over his cheek, apologizing. "Sorry about that, I don't know why I really did it. I guess I was too mad."

"No problem, like you said I deserved it." He replied in a soft, forgiving voice, cupping her palm with his own rougher one. "But you still gave me no answer to my request."

She raised one brow as she looked up at him, knowing exactly which request he was referring too. "Grandma and the others will be worried." She said reasoningly arching her other brow as well. "And… we don't really got much money… and no clothes as well." She said glancing down at her torn dress.

Dimitri looked disappointed away. She was right, they could not do it, they would not make it. It was silly of him to suggest it, though it seemed like the only thing she wanted him to say.

"However, I do have another idea…" her voice trailed off in her usual cunning tone.

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><p><strong>Sorry for the little cliffhanger, but I think I gave you a satysfying long chappie, didn't I? Even with a little delay, which I'm sure you can forgive? :D <strong>

**(next chapter will be the last one by the way! Oh, I'm so excited!)**

**Did you like it? There is the chat I promised, but did it live up to your expectations? I certainly hope it did! Leave a review if you feel like it ;) Thanks for reading and bearing with me!  
><strong>


	10. Chapter 10

_Dear Grandmama,_

_Wish me luck! We'll be together in Paris soon again! I cannot promise when our return will be but I know I will miss you. I also know you are smiling while reading this as much as I am while writing it. You were right after all, I wasn't as happy as I'd thought I was. But I am now! Thank you for the little conspiracy you and Sophie set up for the ball, it changed our lives. _

_I love you and I'll miss you!_

_P.S. Your Majesty, please apologise to Vlad for stealing Pooka from him. He seemed rather keen on following us. _

_With the greatest of respect, Dimitri._

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><p>Anya stared at the young conman in disbelief. "What?" he exclaimed in a rather high-pitched voice that had her suppressing a chuckle.<p>

"Always so formal, Dimitri." She only commented and folded the letter they had just written. The way he tried to be polite to her grandmother amused her as much as touched her since she was aware all of his efforts were made just for her sake.

She placed the envelop on her grandmother's study and they both exited the room, but not before she glanced in nostalgia at the room all around her.

It had been a week since the event at Paris and four days after their return in St. Petersburg, they were eloping, taking just a valise with absolutely necessary things.

After mentally saying another goodbye and blowing a kiss to the Empress's window, she put on her cap and snaked an arm around Dimitri's, wearing a smile that the young man found perfectly disarming and dazzling. _Am I blind yet? _But he had to admit, he was smiling too, not only because her grin and happiness was absolutely contagious, but also because he felt so happy for the first time in his life. Maybe going to that ball was worth it after all! "Ma'am, are you ready?"

"I was born ready, Mister!" she joked and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. And with that they both hurried to the train station that would take them to Constantinople.

_xXxXxXx|A day and a half later|_xXxXxXx__

The young Princess lifted her chin up with her eyes closed, enjoying the salty, gentle breeze of the sea. Whoever looked at her, thought that the beautiful girl was smiling to the heavens. The aura of happiness and joy emitting from her was enough to affect even the grumpiest of people. Dimitri was sure it had affected _him_.

He slowly walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her slender waist while placing a tender kiss on her cheek. He then rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered softly next to her ear. "It's a pity though we did not stay a bit here. It's a beautiful city, isn't it?"

Anya only moaned in agreement without bothering to open her eyes. She only tightened Dimitri's embrace around her. "We have plenty of time to visit Constantinople again. Just think of all the other wonderful cities this ship will take us to!" the excitement that the thrill of adventure caused her was limitless and just too obvious for him not to chuckle. "Wha-? Are you laughing at me, sir?"

"I would never dare laugh at the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna!" he called her by her full name in a dramatic voice. She only chuckled gently. "Anyway, you're right. This cruise in the Mediterranean Sea was the best idea Vlad has ever come up with! What's our first destination again?"

"I see you studied thoroughly the guide book I gave you." she commented with a slight hint of playfulness. "Destination No1 is Athens and then off to Egypt!" she exclaimed in a voice full of enthusiasm. He only smiled at her.

She slowly fluttered her eyelids open and looked at him over her shoulder, practically bringing them face to face. "Thank you, Dimitri. For everything."

He only shrugged his shoulders. "Anything for the Princess Anastasia."

Her reply was a kiss on his cheek.

__xXxXxXx|_Two weeks and a half later|_xXxXxXx__

"Come on, idiot! Hurry! We'll miss it!"

A frantic Anya kept on dragging Dimitri through the narrow, picturesque Italian streets of Rome in hurry. Dimitri only rolled laughingly his eyes at the young woman's childish and beaming enthusiasm. "Oh, we'll make it! Calm down, Highness!"

After a good run of five minutes, they were there; the Fontana Di Trevi before them in all its glory.

Despite her pants and irregular pulse, Anya beamed in excitement at its sight.

"Just in time." She commented with relief as the countdown had already begun.

Nine…

Eight…

Seven…

Dimitri slipped a hand in hers and entwined their fingers.

Five…

She offered him a smile and they both gazed expectantly at the sky.

Three…

Two…

One…

"Happ- ugh!" she didn't have time to even turn and look at him as he captured her lips in a breathtaking kiss. It was short and gentle but satisfying enough. Reluctantly they pulled apart and gazed in each other's eyes before he spoke in a softer voice. "Happy New Year, Princess."

"Yeah, to you too." She replied and they shared smiles, completely oblivious to everybody's cheers and screams of excitement around them or to the fact they were missing the reason they had ran all the way to the fountain; the fireworks. They just lost themselves in each other's eyes.

"Let's make a wish." He suggested suddenly, holding a coin up for her.

"Okay!" she smiled widely and accepted while he fished out of his pockets another one.

Holding hands they pushed their way through the crowd and stood before the fountain. They let go of each other and turned their backs on the historical monument. "Make a wish, make a wish." She kept on mumbling.

"Ready?"

"Of course!"

"One…two…three…NOW!"

And both coins flew through the air and landed with a watery, bubbling sound on the bottom of the fountain.

She looked at him expectantly. "So what did you wish for?"

"Well, I wished…" he started and took her hands in his. He had not realized how sweaty they suddenly felt or the fact that her pulse had suddenly and severely increased. "I wished you won't reject my marriage proposal." He finally said, looking surprisingly cocky.

"Oh!" she exclaimed in understanding and her smile widened significantly. "Do you know what I wished for?"

"How should I!"

"Well, I wished you would make a proposal so that I can reject it!"

His eyes grew twice as big before he smiled and shook his head. "Same, old Anya…" So they had been thinking and wishing for the exact same thing? "What am I going to do with a woman like you?"

"Uhh…marry me?"

"Oh, I intend to!"

"Damn, I'm going to marry a baby…" she whispered as she leaned in for yet another kiss. That was definitely the best Christmas and New Year's she had ever had.

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><p><strong>So this is the end of a cute, little story! My, I love those two so much! Please, please tell me if you liked it! I was so nervous because it's been a while since my last update and I feared I had lost inspiration so please, please, please be kind and leave a review! :D <strong>

**Thank you all of you who have stuck with this story from the beginning, you are awesome guys! It's so sad it's over! **

**Bye for now!**

**Love, kate xxx**


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